Why Smart, Musical, Pretty Women Are Evil
January 24, 2004

RANT #219: Apologies
Madeleine
 
Summary: I belong to this category of girls who can talk for hours about Muddy Waters and The Flaming Lips, and don't study for chem exams and still ace them, and don't read cosmo but still manage to be sexy...
 
Full Text:

 
So Im sitting in a basement sipping a keiths and watching a buddy wail on his trumpet and an old boyfriend spew some notes from his trombone. It strikes me that the word that is most often used to describe my friends and I is, unavailable. As I am in a cycle of quasi boyfriends and singledom this apt description never fails to surprise me. We are not a cloister of in the closet lesbians. So I ponder this phenomena.

Perhaps it is because dating me is a completely torturous process, at times rewarding, often eye opening, but ultimately devastating. Any attempt at romance is met with a laugh on my part as I believe that candles and roses are completely cheesy and degrading. I have scoffed at men who cannot spell Nietzches name but quote him shamelessly. I have been cruel in making boys who have blind faith in post modern ideals squirm as they sit on the very edge of a sofa somewhere. He wants to leave but is oddly unable, although weve only just met. I have been bitingly sarcastic, impossible to love and even more impossible not to want. Men are often masochists and they always come back for more. So we debate the values of Janis Joplins range and Edith Piafs charm over tofu pie and the cleverly cloaked insults I  send floating over the table are usually greeted with a shy smile or a nervous laugh. If a man makes it to coffee, I am always shocked.

I am not so firmly screwed into my ivory tower that I do not come down to feel the earth under my toes every so often. When someone sees past my fortress of sarcasm and underwhelming enthusiasm they are often surprised at who they meet. I sing in the shower, am talented at meeting peoples mothers, have very soft skin, and am a fantastic cook. As infatuation fades into love, I am always left unimpressed. As a relationship turns serious I sour, and I inevitably leave a man I care for broken hearted. I had begun to miss my friends, miss random outings to the park with my baby cousins, miss my circle of music fiends who feed my passion, miss myself. This cycle continues and where it stops Ill never know. All my equally emancipated brilliant girlfriends experience this trend as I do.

This small sect of the female population is evil because, for us, love is not enough. We are palpable, but despite the love we should be able to give, we are currently unavailable.
 


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